““What is it about possessing things? Why do we feel the need to own what we love? And why do we become such jerks when we do? We’ve all been there. You want something, you possess it - and by possessing it, you lose it.” ”

— Louis Chunovic, Chris-In-The-Morning: Love, Life, and the Whole Karmic Enchilada

I've always loved that Lesley Gore song - 'don't tell me what to do, and don't tell me what to say'. It's such a big girl anthem from a time when it was all about crying into your pillow and waiting for the boy to come and rescue you. Admittedly, it was almost ruined for me by the movie The First Wives' Club, but if I try really hard I can block that out.

Possession.

It's not just a pronoun. It's a way of thought for a lot of people.

She is mine. He is mine. They belong to me.

No, they don't.

They - I, you, he, she - belong to themselves. Ourselves.

I watch people all the time. And this is something that absolutely fascinates me. Why do so many of us insist on making our partners into a piece of property? Why do we, as humans, try to take away all that makes the person we say we love most in the world an individual, and instead attempt to cram them into a heart-shaped box of what we want them to be?

The thing that seems to matter most for some is not the person they have, but that they have a person.

Maybe I'm cynical. Maybe I'm a bit jaded. I don't think so, because in my own head and heart I'm a hopeless smooshy romantic, and I adore happy endings. But of late, I seem to be seeing this phenomenon of possession. Of people becoming things. A tick on the list - relationship achieved, so now let's make the partner fit what I want them to be.

I'll make them mine.

This goes two ways of course.

Some people are happy in that role. And if that is the case - then that's their choice, and it's absolutely fine. Unimaginable to me, but fine. I am unable to imagine living life that way, which is possibly why nobody is able to stomach me for large periods of time! When it come down to the wire though, there is another grammatical use of possession which it is wise to bear in mind. It is not just a pronoun.

It is, of course, also a verb. Which, like love, as I was reminded last night by my very wise friend Miss A, is a doing word.

To want to be possessed - to allow yourself to be possessed, in terms of being loved completely, and wholeheartedly, and giving yourself totally to another... that is a very different kettle of fish. By the way, can someone please tell me where that term comes from? Sorry, tangent.

"You possess me."

"I am possessed by you."

Wow.

The difference is, it is you making the choice. Not someone making the choice for you. Which is a world apart.

You don't own me.

But I might let you borrow me... for a lifetime or two.

Hypothetically speaking.

“““What’s your name,’ Coraline asked the cat. ‘Look, I’m Coraline. Okay?’
’Cats don’t have names,’ it said.
’No?’ said Coraline.
’No,’ said the cat. ‘Now you people have names. That’s because you don’t know who you are. We know who we are, so we don’t need names.”” ”

— Neil Gaiman, Coraline

I was talking to a friend the other day and he mentioned to me a very funny comedy routine by Jimeoin (which will mean something to Australian and Irish readers of this blog) about men being dogs and women being cats. Basic premise: men are pretty much happy go lucky, 'yay, she's home, yay!', come up and want to be petted personalities; whereas women are more stand-off, give them a bit of room and they will come to you numbers who need to make up their own minds about whether or not they will pay you attention.

Men are like dogs, women are like cats.

I thought about this for probably far longer than it warranted, because my head is full of rubbish.

And decided it was a load of bollocks.

Sort of.

There are some people who are like dogs, and some people who are like cats.

Now that - that makes sense.

Here we go.

There are definitely those amongst us who are more dog-like in nature. You think about the people you know who are fiercely loyal, will go out on a limb for you whenever you need it, always, always there for you no matter what - who will always forgive you irrespective of how much you push them or how badly you behave... who is that but 'man's' (and there are definite quotation marks on that one) best friend? And you will probably be careless with their affection because, just like dogs, you don't recognise the hurt in their eyes - because they don't let you see it. Instead they hide it with the love that they hold for you, because to do otherwise - well, would be less than faithful.

As for the cat people? Oh... think about those star-shiny creatures who slink into people's lives and weave their way around their senses, often without being noticed immediately. They may switch off and on like a lightbulb, bestowing affection when and how they feel like it, and only when they deign to - but one can't help but want to reach out and stroke, despite the risk of getting a swift claw or a growl rather than a rumbling purr or a smooch in return.

Cats sound like absolute bastards don't they?

And yet.

In their own way, even though they don't show it openly, but keep it for the very private moments, they love fiercely and desperately and truly. They do keep the faith, and they will fight tooth and nail for those that they care about.

They just don't show it.

Because that would mean giving away secrets. And that wouldn't be cool. And above anything else, cats have to stay cool.

Nobody ever says 'cool for dogs'.

Whether you are a panther or a pup, I value all of the amazing people in my life. But I will freely confess - I am a cat woman, and will ever remain so.

Oh - and I really don't run goats. Some people are DEFINITELY goats.

Purr.

You Don't Own Me...

The Truth About Cats And Dogs